


The Education of Anduin Wrynn

by serendipityspeaks



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Belts, Candles, Consensual, Consensual Kink, Consensual Sex, F/M, Large Breasts, Large Cock, Lemon, Multiple Orgasms, Penis In Vagina Sex, Penis Size, Power Exchange, Power Imbalance, Power Play, Prisoner and Guard, Safe Sane and Consensual, Spanking, Squirting, explicit - Freeform, female orgasm, whore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-07-09 15:40:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19890259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serendipityspeaks/pseuds/serendipityspeaks
Summary: This is a side branch of my other fic, Madams Make Decisions.  Anduin continues his sexal education with his favorite madam.  He's 19 in this fic, and struggles with his rougher desires and what they mean for his nature as a person and as a man as he matures and comes into his own.





	The Education of Anduin Wrynn

**Author's Note:**

> I decided that for whatever reason I enjoy writing about Avi and Anduin, but I didn't want her story to stop with him and become all about her and him. So I'm adding this little side bit. It picks up after he's learned some from both her and Demiri. I might go back and write some of that really early stuff, but TBH it seems like it wouldn't be that different than what I've already written. If you're finding this fic without having read that one, then understand that some of the places where I've sort of fudged the negotiation or had the characters make assumptions is based on a history between them. 
> 
> This first chapter is written from Anduin's POV. I'll probably switch back and forth, but I actually like writing from the male POV even tho if you've read my other work you know I don't often do it for my sex scenes. The reason I usually don't when writing smut is because a lot of my smut is rougher and I want you to be inside the head of the more vulnerable party so you know that they enjoy what's going on. But because I'd already established their relationship and well established Avi's preferences, I went ahead and switched POVs. :) 
> 
> There is some BDSM in this one - some spanking, some use of a belt, and some playing with candles and wax. There's also a bit of alliance/horde guard/captive role play. Something else I don't often do is write about scenarios where IRL it would be non-con. And the reason for that is because I don't understand men who want to be the one participating, even if it's pretend non-con. I don't understand or trust those desires, and I have negative feelings towards men who want to pretend to rape women. I want to like my male protags, so I don't normally write about even BDSM non-con roleplay. But I wanted to play with the guard/captive power dynamic so I used their established relationship to do it, and I think I managed to do it without venturing into non-con territory.

“I don’t care, Matthias, just get it done!,” I bellowed, bringing all conversation to a stop. Yelling wasn’t normal for me. I barely even raised my voice. Realizing what I’d done, I lowered my tone, “It’s taking too long. Please find some way to get it here faster.” 

“I’ll do my best, majesty,” he answered, accepting my words. The meeting continued, and everyone else seemed to forget my outburst, my Matthias didn’t. He kept shooting me strange looks. I attempted to ignore them, but when I released everyone he said, “Very well, majesty. And may I suggest you have dinner with an old friend tonight? Does wonders for the nerves.” 

That was the signal we’d devised. He was saying I should see Avinyela. I enjoyed her, and my time with her, but I tried to limit it. I didn’t think it was good to over-indulge ,”I don’t need--” 

Everyone else was gone, so he cut me off and addressed me informally, “Anduin, you look like you’re stuck in a cage that’s too small. You’ve been fidgeting with your armor, you can’t sit still, and now you’re yelling at people. You need a release valve. Let me send word.” 

I stopped and thought about it. How long had it been since I’d seen her? Weeks? Probably. I easily lost track of time. I’d started sleeping with other people, too, but none of them were like her. At first, I’d seen her every other night. But once I started wanting to indulge my darker desires I’d turned away. But Matthias was right. I’d broken the seal on my restraint, and there was no going back now. And, eventually I’d have to face those parts of myself and either let them go or accept how I felt. 

Tonight wasn’t the night for dealing with my existential crisis though, so I just gave him a curt nod, “Fine. Have her sent to my room later. Make sure she knows what kind of night it’ll be.” 

“I will, sir.” 

I left the room without answering and made my way through the castle to my rooms. Supper was waiting for me, and I shoveled it into my mouth. It’s a habit I picked up from my time travelling around Azeroth, and I’ve never quite let go of it. I get the food down as fast as I can. I don’t even care that much about what it is, although I’m sure the castle cooks have done a good job. Their work is lost on me though. When I’m done, I put the tray in the hall because I don’t want to talk to anyone but her once she’s here. 

I take off all of my armor and carefully place it on the stand. One of the benefits of being king is that I don’t have to clean my own armor anymore. I hate that particular chore, so I’m happy to leave it to the servants. Next, I strip off my boots and my shirt. My hair stays back, and everything goes but my pants. Those stay, for the moment. 

Next, I walk around the room and extinguish the lamps. I leave only the candles, placed around the room to provide only the minimum of light needed to see. Then I settle into the chair, and I wait, thinking in the dimness. 

I look like my mother. I’ve been told this many times, and I’ve seen it in the pictures of her. I look just like her. The only thing I share with my father is the blue eyes. I’m like my mother, too. She was kind and gentle and thoughtful. And smart. I’ve never shown them to anyone, but she left me journals. She wrote down almost everything - her thoughts, her dreams, even the most basic mundane details of her life. When my father disappeared, I read them as often as I could. Lady Prestor had always scared me as a child, and I wanted nothing to do with her. Bolvar, for all his goodness, was too stern to be a good father-figure. So instead of bedtime stories, I had my mother’s words. I am her son, inside and out. All of the good I took from my father was because she taught me to find it there in him. 

There was one thing I inherited from my father, though. My father was a lion, and I am too. I sometimes wonder, while I’m with Avinyela, if I hadn’t inherited his proclivities, too. There was more to the relationship between Valeera and my father than either had been publicly willing to admit, but I knew. I’d seen her in corridors she shouldn’t have been in at times she shouldn’t have been there wearing clothes that weren’t her normal armor. I’d once heard her voice making strange noises when I’d tried to seek out my father after a nightmare. She’d been there in my formative years, and one of my deepest shames was the way I’d thought of her during my adolescence. As an adult I deduced what had happened between her and father, and I can’t think of her that way anymore, but my attraction to blood elves seemed to have stayed behind. So he gave me the lion, with its claws, that hides inside me. And he gave me certain proclivities. They wrap themselves together nicely in the person of Avinyela. 

As if thinking her name summoned her, my door opened and she slipped into the dimness. She wore a long, red cloak, her green eyes glowing in the shadows of the hood. She pulled it back, and candle light long the orange-gold of her hair. I can almost feel the texture of it between my fingers, the slippery silk of it. The little noise she makes when I gather it in my fist. I can hear it as she takes off the cloak and shakes those long waves out. The cloak is flung, as usual, onto the nearest available chair. 

Even after all these months in Stormwind, she still proudly wears her blood elf heritage on her body. The top half of her dress is transparent red, with golden threads making swirls against the skin of her stomach. Her breasts, soft and heavy, are pushed up into mounds that move at the slightest provocation by a tight green half-bodice. A wide belt emphasizes the curves of her hips, so much more generous than that of most blood elves, and holds in place the two long, satin-y white pieces of cloth that are the front and back panels of what could only loosely be termed a dress. Long, expensive loincloth would be a better word. It obscures and hides as she moves around my room, pouring herself a glass of wine. When she turns I see that the back panel of the dress barely covers the curve of her ass. The only thing I can see is the way it bounces when I fuck her from behind. Hard. I’m already hard. My cock has grown big and heavy in my pants, barely finding room to rise. I resist the urge to palm it and relieve some of the tension. 

“Anduin?,” she says, her voice sweet like honey and sharp as a dagger. All of the blood elves are like that - sugar and danger. It’s what makes them so appealing. She takes a sip of her wine, tongue snaking out to lick a drop off her pillowy red lips. 

“Over here,” I answer, keeping a tight rein on the excitement and lust that I feel. 

“Aah, now I can see you,” her green eyes turn to me. She catches sight of me, her eyes caressing my chest and arms. I see it there. The barest flicker of desire. She’s better at hiding her emotions than I am. Or, maybe, she’s better at reading me than I am her, “I can see what you want tonight, king. You’re wound very tight. It isn’t going to be soft and gentle.” 

“No,” the admission is like a crack in a dam, soon, relief, “It isn’t.” 

“Do you remember the rules?,” still, the coaxing purr. I know this part is necessary. I know it is. But sometimes I wish I could dispense with it. 

“Yes. No destroying your clothes. No drunkenness. And stop if I hear yellow or red.” 

She gave me a look, up and down, and something must have shown on my face because she took another sip of her wine, set it on an end table, and spoke again, “I’m adding another. No harder playing if you’re angry. Are you, my lord?” 

“Angry with you?,” I frowned, “No.” 

“Not with me, just at all. I haven’t come here to be a whipping post for your anger, whether at me or someone else. So are you angry? Are those storm clouds I see over your head?” 

I thought about it, really thought about what she was saying. Was I angry? When was I not, though? I was always angry at my father for ‘gifting’ me with these desires. But it had never bled into my actions. It never would. My issues with my father weren’t driving my actions, “No. I’m frustrated and stressed, but not angry.” 

“Good, then I am yours,” she stood where she was, across the room, and I let my eyes feast themselves on her. I pushed down my pants, giving in to the demands of my aching cock, taking it out and stroking it up and down. My movements were lazy and slow, but her eyes followed all of them, and I saw the pattern of her breathing change while she watched. I’d planned to keep my pants on, but I changed my mind, pushing them down and kicking them off. I sat naked in the chair, legs spread - not to give her a better view, no, this was for me, because I’m a man, and this is how I sit. I own the space around me. I stroke my cock and I see her watch, see her eyes become heavy-lidded with desire, and I see her press her thighs together. 

“Tell me. Did you wear that dress to tease me?,” I ask, casually stroking my cock while I talk. Her eyes don’t leave my moving hand. 

“Yes. I want you to want me,” she doesn’t lie to me. Not here, not about this. She’s my teacher, and she knows I won’t learn if she lies. 

“When have I not wanted you?” 

“Are you wet under that scrap of fabric you’re calling a dress?” 

“Yes.” 

“Why?” 

“I’d,” she swallowed, flicking her eyes up to mine, “well, I’d forgotten how big it is. I’d forgotten how the rest of you  _ looks _ .” 

I look like you’d expect a twenty year old who practices for hours a day with a sword to look. My father was a big man, and I inherited that from him too. I build muscle easily and didn’t retain a lot of fat. She was much smaller than me. She’s shorter than other blood elves - when she stands next to me, she only comes to my shoulder, although she’s told me many times that being shorter and smaller than me was part of the appeal. 

“And you still want me to find you appealing? Even knowing I’d want to use  _ this _ ,” I give my cock a hard squeeze, “On you.” 

Her breathing is uneven, “Especially knowing you want to use that on me.” 

“Come here and kneel. You haven’t greeted your king properly,” she rushes to obey, but even hurrying she’s graceful. She moves like liquid and easily manages not to get tangled in her dress when she kneels in front of me, “Closer, elf.” 

She takes a few kneeling steps, crawling closer, and my free hand snaps out, grabbing her behind the head. I shove her head closer to my cock, making her stumble on her knees. Something deep inside me thrills at that little stumble. I hold her there with my hand, not allowing her to move, my fingers firmly tangled in her hair. I rub the tip of my cock over her lips, letting the sensitive skin of the head feel the texture of them. Glossy and smooth, soft and plush. My cockhead glides easily over her mouth, and I can feel the slickness of whatever she’s applied to them before coming here. 

“Open,” I snarl, pretending to be upset with her. I’m not upset, though, I’m fighting the urgency that says  _ fuck her. Fuck her now. Her cunt would be so sweet _ . I haven’t taken lessons from Demiri and I’m not as sure of myself in this arena. She’s taught me much about her body, but less about the mind games that make this play so satisfying. I really have no idea what to do, so I follow my instincts. I do what I want. If I am wrong, she’ll tell me. I trust her to do that. 

Her mouth drops open, her body thrumming with the tension of not moving in her awkward crouch between my legs, and I rest the head of my cock on that soft, wet tongue, “You look good with my cock in your mouth,” I shoved her face a little, not much, just enough to make her sputter a little, “Now suck. Suck like you have a chance of being kept from the dungeons if you please me.” 

I didn’t know where this fantasy had come from, but as soon as the idea of it entered my mind, I knew it was what I wanted tonight. She was my prisoner, wet and willing and mine. I’d never do this to a real prisoner, they can’t be willing, they’re prisoners and I’ve too much power over them. But her? Oh, she was willing, and that was the beauty of it being a fantasy. I could indulge myself, knowing she’d tell me to stop if I went too far. I was safe with her, safe to explore these regions of myself. I could face the monsters given to me by the long line of Wrynn lions who’d come before, and I could master them. I could find peace with them. 

Her tongue swirled around me, wetting the skin to make it easier to slide her mouth up and down it. I let go, and she took it as a sign to substitute her hands for mine to hold my cock steady. Good, her hands were much softer than mine, and they felt strange and good against my skin. Her mouth closed deeper around me, and I groaned, pushing on her head with my hand. She tapped my thigh when she felt it - a warning. There were rules. I could fuck her face, but not while she was trying to take me deeper. I could her for real if I tried to fuck her throat, and I didn’t want to do that. She knew I’d feel bad, so she warned me. She licked and sucked, and then took me as deep as she could, drawing a moan out of me. She couldn’t take all of me down deep, I’m too big for that, but years of practice made the attempt valiant. I watched her as her mouth slid up and down on me, the warmth and wetness making it hard to concentrate. Too fast, I was going to come too fast. I pushed her away, and she stumbled backwards, sprawling out on the ground in front of me. For a split second I felt bad - I liked Avi, I didn’t want to hurt her. But then she looked up at me and slowly, deliberately, wiped the back of her mouth with her hand and swallowed. Defiance lit her expression, like she knew what I wanted from her tonight. Like she knew exactly what would stoke my flame. 

The lion that kept caged all the time roared at me for release. 

_ Take her _ , it growled,  _ take her and show her who is strongest. _

I wouldn’t let go of my control yet, though, oh no. I got up, taking firm steps towards her, looming over her, but she looked up at me, one corner of her mouth raised in a sarcastic smile, and said, “That all you got, boy king?” 

I snarled and grabbed her by the arm, hauling her up from the ground. I dragged her to the bed, and tossed her onto it face-first. I followed her down, and grabbed her arms by the wrist, holding them behind her back. My hand was in the hollow of her lower back, the sheer silk still covering her skin, but the heat of her body still touched me. I leaned on her, pinning her with some of my weight. But then, something surprising happened. 

“Yellow, Anduin. You’re killin’ my shoulder sockets, ease up some.” 

I let go of her, jumping back instantly, “Shit, shit! I’m sorry!” 

“Honey, it’s no problem, you’re doing fine. Just be a little careful of the joints,” she smiled at me, and it was Avi again, not a sexy blood elf captive. 

“Are you sure it’s fine?,” I hesitated, battling with my inexperience. 

“You’re still learning, but you’ve got good instincts. Come see how fine it is,” She arched, rocking her hips side to side in an invite to touch her. She hadn’t moved her hands from behind her back when I’d let go, and I went back to her, taking her wrists in hand again. This time I didn’t put my weight on her, but I shoved my thigh between hers, opening her legs. It was easy to get my hand inside the skirt, but I found when I did that the top half of the outfit was a bodysuit. The silky material covered her pussy, but it was soaked through. I ran a fingertip over her slit, and it came back slick, even through the material. She made a whimpering noise and pushed back against my finger, trying to get more contact. She really  _ was _ enjoying this. 

And then I realized that her saying ‘yellow’ was a good thing. It was the last piece that I needed to feel safe. It made me realize that I could trust her, really trust her, to tell me where her boundaries were. If I came close to crossing them, she’d tell me. She didn’t sink too deep, and I wasn’t taking away her agency. It was still there, and she still wanted this, she still wanted me. I grinned and looked down at her, so beautiful with her back arched her sunset-colored hair spilling across my bed, “The little hordie elf likes it rough.” 

She bit her lip, and I knew she was pretending when she looked ashamed, but it had an effect all the same, “I...I...no...I don’t...” 

“Then you like having a thick cock down your throat? Because your body betrays you,” I rubbed two fingers up and down her slit, pushing harder against the material this time. She squirmed at the touch, “You’re going to beg me, before this night is through. I don’t know whether you’re going to beg me to start or to stop, but you’ll beg.” 

She moaned and rubbed her cheek against the duvet, “I..I...do..!” 

“Do, what?,” I let some meanness leak into my voice, a honed edge of cruelty, while I kept teasing her with my fingers. 

“I’m too small!,” she burst out!, “None of them will,” her face was red from arousal, but she pretended it was embarrassment, averting her eyes, “Horde men, they say I’m too small. They won’t fuck me...not the way I want. They say they’ll break me. They won’t be rough with me like I want!” 

It was ridiculous, on the surface of it. She was a working whore and had been long before she’d come to the city. It was a game - I  _ knew _ it was a game - and yet the words roused something in me. A need so deep I almost felt overwhelmed. The need to possess, the need to give her what she hadn’t found elsewhere. A need to sate her in ways she didn’t know she could be sated, to be more, bigger, to have more power than other men. I was achingly hard, and my cock wasn’t even close to being able to be satisfied, because this feeling was overwhelming and I wanted more. I wanted to make her cry out and come and beg. I wanted to hear her words. 

“Oh? Then maybe what you really needed was a king,” I quickly pushed the material to the side and plunged my fingers into her. I hooked them against the front all of her, thrusting them in and out of her hard like she’d shown me she liked. I went, relishing the wet sounds it made, and her moans and gasps. I’d been with her enough now to judge when she was getting close to coming, and when she got close, I pulled my fingers out. The cry of anguish that came from her was real. It threaded through my bones and into the place where I caged the lion, and opened the door a crack. It licked across my skin and directly to my cock, making it jump and making my balls tighten. My slit was dooling, thin strands of pre-cum dripping down my cockhead. It begged to be touched. 

And yet. 

The cry she’d made, the sound...I wanted more. I wanted to earn those cries, so instead I growled at her, “Poor girl, no satisfaction for you yet. Girls who lie about what they like don’t deserve to come.” 

“I’m sorry!,” she almost sounded sincere, but I’d seen her when she meant it, and this wasn’t close enough. I let her go and sat on the bed next to her. She turned to face me, and I didn’t miss her hungry eyes flicking to my straining cock. Oh, yes, she wanted it. Not yet, Avi, not yet. Soon. 

“Lay across my lap,” it wasn’t a request. She caught the tone and scrambled to obey me, settling in on her stomach across my thighs, “You know,” my voice was conversational, like we weren’t halfway to fucking. Like my hard cock wasn’t pinned against her warm body. I gently moved the white panel of silk out of the way, “You said you were too small but this,” I gently stroked my hand across the soft, full skin of one half of her ass. She was tense against me, wondering what I’d do. I grabbed a handful of that soft flesh and squeezed, just hard enough to make her exhale hard, “Your ass looks plenty big to me. Plenty ripe.” 

“Too big,” she mumbled, “Too big for them.” 

“The right size for a king,” I said, and let go of her. Just as soon as I’d let go, I brought my hand back down in a smack. Not hard, barely enough to make a noise. 

“Oh!,” she said, and mumbled something under her breath. 

“Hm? What was that? An admission?,” I ran my hand over her smooth flesh again. 

“I said, Thrall’s wife hits harder than the Alliance  _ king _ ,” she injected so much of the Kaldorei scorn into the word king that I almost believed that she meant it. Then again, I’d met Aggra. She was a formidable warrior and probably  _ could _ hit harder than me. Avi, of course, would know all of this, and I saw her hide her smile against her arm. I choked down a laugh. 

“Couldn’t resist, could you?,” I shook my head, making a tsk-ing noise, “Unwise, girl, unwise.” 

This time when I smacked her there was a good deal of force behind it. She moaned against her arm when her body rocked forward under the blow. I smacked her again, watching the way her perfect ass moved when I hit her and made her squirm, “Is that the best you can do?” 

She was provoking me, because I wasn’t giving her what she needed. She was my teacher and she was guiding me to her limits. To learn her and what I could give her. And what  _ could _ I give her? I didn’t have a playroom here like she had at her brothel. I thought about it for a second, stroking her ass in a way that wasn’t meant to be reassuring. Then, an idea came to me, “More respect, or I’ll take a belt to you.” 

“I’m not afraid of you, little king. You’re only alliance,” Derision, smooth as silk, threaded through her tone.  _ Change my mind _ , she challenged. I picked her up bodily, and threw her onto the bed on her stomach. 

“Undress,” I ordered and walked over to my wardrobe. It only took me a few minutes to find what I was looking for - one of my dress leather belts. Not sturdy enough to hang a sword from, but thick and well-made. I looped it around my fist a few times and walked towards her. Her eyes followed me as I walked towards her and she undressed. Inch after inch of that delicious peach skin escaped from the clothing, and I relished it all. When she was undressed, she laid back down on her stomach. She was facing me, so I walked to the other side of the bed. I grabbed her hips and yanked her back towards me, positioning her so that her legs hung off the bed. Her ass was there for me, pretty and round and perfect. I remembered the lessons Demiri had given me about this, and I knew now that she’d stop me if I went too far. 

I unrolled just enough of the belt, holding some in my fist and leaving enough free to smack her with it. Demiri liked to set a rhythm for her, but I didn’t know how to do that yet. I wanted to try things and see how she reacted to them. I remembered the most important things, though: Don’t let the end wrap around her sides, and never, ever hit her anywhere but the meat of her ass and her upper back. Otherwise I was aiming at vital organs, and no one wanted her to lose a kidney while getting beat during sex. 

Her arms were out in front of her, not behind her back. He’d taught me that, too. It didn’t matter how much she enjoyed it or how used to it she was, don’t let her get her hands near her ass because they’d get between her skin and implement and it would hurt her fingers. So many things to remember. And yet, none of it made me want her less. No, in fact, having been taught by Demiri made me want to try more. I knew I’d received good instructions, and I knew the safer and better I was at this the more fun we’d both have. No, reminding myself of the rules in turn like that worked like a kind of foreplay on my brain. I was really going to get to do this. I was going to get to give in to the part of me that wanted to turn her skin cherry-red, to bruise her, to earn her noises and cries of pain. To bring her pleasure, too. To mark her with it. In time, the rules would become habits, and I’d be even freer. 

I think we both moaned when the belt first cracked against her skin. She jumped, expecting it, but not knowing when or how hard. I savored it, watching the red stripe appear across the smooth expanse. Mine. I’d done that. I’d left that mark. I wanted to leave another. The belt smack her skin again, and her fingers dug into the bed. She rubbed her cheek against the soft material like she was pleased. But I needed to know, could I go harder. Could I get other reactions from her? I could ask, but it wouldn’t be as good for her. After all, what was the point of a power game if I kept returning the power to her? She didn’t want to make decisions, she just wanted to feel. She wanted to let go. 

“Tell me, elf,” I growled, keeping in the roles that we had chosen tonight, “Tell me, and keep yourself out of the Stockades.” 

“Never. Never. Do what you will,” She pushed her ass in the air, offering it to me. I groaned low in my throat, and brought the belt down again. So far I’d managed to hit my target. It wasn’t that different than wielding other weapons, and I had excellent aim. Again I hit her, and again she moaned for me, trying to rub her clit against the bed. 

“No, no, girl. You only get the satisfaction  _ I _ give you,” I chided her. But I knew it meant that soon I should touch her, soon I should make her come. I wondered how wet she was, how close. I could see her wetness on her thighs, and the thought of slipping my cock inside her made it twitch. Another bead of precum drooled out of the tip. I stroked myself a few times just to feel something against the aching between my legs. I’d never been this hard or this thick. But then, I’d never given in like this. I’d never gotten what I wanted like this. And, by the gods, it was worth all of the waiting and all of the lessons. They were right, there was nothing wrong with it. Pain and pleasure mixed for us both, and it wasn’t ugly. 

Again, my arm dropped. 

Again. 

Again. 

I lost count, and her bottom was a blaze of red. It was beautiful. Then, I remembered something else that Demiri told me - switching the sensation made it better for them. Even if you’d varied the strikes - which I had - their body would still acclimate. But what else did I have? I looked around the room and my eyes landed on something else. Something ordinary, but I’d never seen Demiri use it before. I dropped the belt, letting it thump and clatter ominously against the floor, and crossed to where I stored my candles. I pulled a new one out and lit it with one of the existing ones. I spoke to give it some time to melt a little. 

“You’ve proven tougher than I expected,” I said, moving back towards her. She was still bent over, but her legs were spread wider now. Her red ass above her weeping pussy was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen. Violent, but still beautiful. 

“I...I told you I was,” she took a deep breath and shuddered where she lay, “It takes more than a belt.” 

I curved my hand around the flame to keep it from going out while I moved, “And what about heat? What would that do, pretty elf?” 

She didn’t answer, she just gave me a full body shudder. Remembering her desire not to have her hair ruined, I carefully gathered it up and moved it out of the way. I knelt above her and looked down at her. My eyes mapped her arms and shoulders, the lines of muscle under her warm skin. Down her shoulder blades, skating over the swell of her pillowed breasts. I traveled down the curved line of her spine to the dimples at the base of it and the round, plump, reddened heart of her ass. She was my canvas, and I needed to pick a place to start. My hand moved, tipping the candle. A drop of wax fell, splattering near her shoulder blade. She jumped, twitching in surprise, a little gasp flying from her mouth. Another joined it, then another. I made a dotted, splattered path across her shoulders. I let the wax drip and flow along her spine. I made it spill over her ribs, dripping onto the coverlet. She tried not to squirm, but it was to no avail. To us, this was all foreplay. Her skin was covered in gooseflesh, and she kept trying not to rock her hips against the bed. 

“Fuck,” she gasped, “It feels good.” 

I had no reply, but I liked the confirmation. My hand moved again, down lower to the unblemished plane of her hips. The further down I got the more tense she got, as I neared the inflamed skin of her ass. I took my time, teasing her, marking her, wrenching all the sound I could from her. Then I let the first drops fall. I didn’t know how she would react, so I made sure they dripped and rolled down her hips, not between the halves of her ass or thighs. When the first whisper of hot wax landed she groaned and bucked her hips. Drop after drop I made art on that flesh. Finally, I was satisfied, and I couldn’t keep myself away from her anymore. I blew the candle out and put it on the nightstand and then positioned myself behind her, between her legs. 

“Tell me how wet you are,” I commanded. 

“I can feel it when I move. Everything is slippery. My clit  _ aches _ . I...I need to be filled, king,” she was playing a little with me still, but the rest was true. I bent forward, using my hand to slide my cock against her, slipping it methodically through her folds, rubbing it on her clit. I coated myself with her wetness, teasing us both with the nearness of it. She gasped and squirmed beneath me, and I leaned forward, rocking my hips against her, looming at her back. 

“Say the words, and save yourself,” I rasped against the back of her head. I told her she’d beg, and I’d hear it before I gave either of us any relief, “Say what you know I want to hear.” 

“I...I...please...please...I can’t...,” To my surprise, I felt the hot, rhythmic bursts of fluid gush out of her, coating my cock and my hand. She moaned loudly into the comforter, writhing against my cock with reckless abandon. She’d come, and I’d barely touched her. She’d come and she’d been trying not to. 

“I was going to go slow. Give you a chance to get used to my cock. But I told you not to do that, and you did it anyway. For that, horde, I’m going to fill you quick,” I put the head of my cock against her opening and pushed, seating myself to the hilt in one smooth stroke. She screamed and moaned, hands clenching into fists. But she didn’t tell me to stop, and she shoved her hips against me. She was hot and slippery and I could feel the clenching flutters of her receding orgasm around my cock. 

“You’re so big. I didn’t...I didn’t expect it,” she did. She knew about my size. That was one of the reasons Matthias had introduced me to her - she had preferences and experience with men my size. She liked the pain of being filled like this. She liked feeling me so deep inside her, and I...well, I thought there was no better feeling than Avi’s dripping, clenching cunt around my cock. I knew that she wouldn’t be the last and that some day I’d have to marry, but for now? For now I’d let myself have this. Have her. 

“Fuck, Avi,” I groaned, breaking the game without meaning to, “You’re so fucking wet tonight.” 

“Use it, Anduin. Use me,” she was begging again. I could hear the desperation in her voice, and it wasn’t a game. She needed me to move, to finish what I’d started. So I pushed myself up to a better position to get some leverage, and I rocked my hips. Yes. Yes, there it was. Her cunt gripped me, and when I slid out of her it gripped me like it didn’t want me to go. I wasted no time building. I went hard, and I went fast, and I kept going until I heard her cry out again and felt the hot splash of her cum on my thighs and balls. I fucked her spasming pussy while she came, howling and moaning for me. She felt too good. 

I pulled out and stood, grabbing her and flipping her over. She made a cute squeaking noise and laughed. Not at me, but with the fun and joy of what we were doing. Of how we made each other feel. Sex with her was fun. She grinned up at me, her thighs open, her arms flung out above her head. Her pussy dripped, and her nipples were fat and hard at the tips of her breasts, “I have you where I want you, king. I’ve won the day. I beg because I want to. Now please, please fuck me again. Fill me again. Please!” 

I grinned back and shoved my cock back into her. I looked down, watching her cunt stretch to accomodate me. I watched her until she started to forget herself, then I leaned forward and angled my hips so that my public bone rubbed against her clit. She had her thighs around my hips, her feet locked behind me, and now she grabbed at me, holding onto me while my hips pistoned and moved my achingly hard cock inside her. I pulled away just enough to cup her breasts while I moved and I groaned at the feel of them. Her tits were one of my favorite parts of her body; heavy and firm, but soft, and tantalizingly big. Her flesh always spilled over my greedy, cupped hands. I could feel them moving with the force of my thrusts. 

“Harder, Anduin, harder, please!,” she begged, and I obeyed. I held nothing back. I knew nothing bet the tight grasp of her dripping cunt, our intermingled moans and labored breaths, and the obscene wet slurp as I moved inside her. I knew her nails dug into my back, but I didn’t care. I barely felt it. There was only holding on until she came again, and then there’d be sweet release, “Right there! Yes, fuck, yes, Anduin!” 

I knew she wouldn’t manage more words than that, so I didn’t ask for them. I just kept going, our bodies moving, until I felt the hot gush from between her legs. She screamed her pleasure to the world, and her cunt gripped me hard. Too hard. I couldn’t last any longer, and I let go, let the orgasm wash over me and through me. I emptied myself into her hot, clutching pussy, filling her and thrusting until I felt it dripping out. I stopped then, laying on her, but not too heavily. I left myself buried as deeply inside of her as I could manage, letting my twitching cock ooze the last drops of cum into her. I loved coming inside her. I’d come in her mouth, and I’d come on a lot of other parts of her, but deep inside her was my favorite by far. 

It took a moment to come back to myself and remember Demiri’s last rule: take care of them. So I pushed up and then leaned down and kissed her gently, “Let me get you cleaned up.” 

“That’s sweet, but you don’t have to,” she smiled at me and twisted a stray lock of my hair around her fingers. 

“I want to,” I replied, and stood. She shuddered in remembered pleasure as I pulled out of her, cum leaking from her, and I grinned. A swell of pure male pride filled me - I’d satisfied her, and I’d come inside her. 

I went and retrieved the salve I used to heal my own injuries from swordplay, and retrieved some warm water from the enchanted taps in my bathroom. I grabbed a few soft clothes and brought the whole lot back to the bedroom. She was where I left her, but her eyes were closed and there was a satisfied smile on her face. 

“Here,” I said, quietly, “Lay on the bed properly.” 

She did as I asked. Then she rolled onto her stomach. I got the hint and cleaned the wax off first. It would take more than that to get it out of the coverlet, but I didn’t care. Once the wax was gone, I paused to pull back the covers so she could lay on the clean sheets instead of the ruined blanket. I took the warm clothes and cleaned off the residue of the wax, moving as gently as I could. I cleaned between her legs, wiping away our combined fluids from her thighs and the lips of her pussy. Then I took the salve and worked it into her skin and muscles, starting at her shoulders and working my way all the way down to her ass. I was even more gentle there - I knew what it felt like to take a beating. I’d taken plenty myself at practice, though none were as fun as this. 

Lastly, I got up and blew out all the candles. Moonlight came through the windows, pooling on the floor in patches of welcoming silver. I padded back across the room and slid into the bed next to her, gathering her in my arms and holding her close against me. I gently played with her hair; something she told me she enjoyed afterwards. It was calming for her. She snuggled tight, wrapping herself around me. 

“Do you mind if I--,” she cut herself off with jaw-cracking yawn. 

“Sleep, Avi. For as long as you need. You’re safe here.” 


End file.
